erotica?

It was a sad day. That's an understatement. Imagine losing two families at one time so you could live with your biological family who didn't want you. It was that kind of day. No food in the refridgerator, maxed out credit cards, unable to pay rent, this is bottom. May you never be here. So, I e-mailed the person in charge of my first family where I'd met my girlfriend. She's sweet and a great cook. She makes delicious things like seven-layer salad and things in a crock pot. After I e-mailed the person, I cried like a girl, but my girlfriend let me cry on her breasts. Let's back up, because maybe you're confused. I know I'd be if I were you. All that matters to me is church and improv. See, in church, it feels like I'm part of a family, people let me give them hugs, talk about my problems, and I listen to their problems too. We all hear the sermons, get healings, and hope we get a Spirit Greeting (our dead relatives tell us something). But, you get to know your fellow church members. You feel safe opening up to them about what's going on in your life, and getting to know each other.  

I also signed up for a Second City class, or I should say classes. Second City is improvisational comedy and sketch comedy. We learned things like “yes anding,” “Who, what, where,” and “No denial, story, or questions”. It was more than that though. See, there was a woman I met there who talked, a lot. She sometimes was a verbal fight between her and another woman about who would date me (I must be in a parallel universe, right?), but she was the one who let me cry on her breasts when I had to write the e-mail since my car's brakes went out and my car got totaled. Church said to take mediumship classes, so I went to Lily Dale, New York, and . . . that's a different story. But, one time she wanted to cuddle on the grass outside of Second City, in Novi, Michigan and she moved and I accidently touched her breasts and I apologized and told her it was an accident. She asked me, “Sorry? Sorry for what?” and I told her I'd touched her the wrong way and she asked for clarification, so I told her I accidently touched her breasts and that I was sorry. “It didn't bother me, did it bother you?” and I told her no, at the risk of sounding mysogenistic, I kind of enjoyed it.  

Then, a few weeks later, we were in her red pick-up truck and she told me she was tense and asked if I could give her a massage, so I did. I massaged her shoulders, her mid-back, and her lower back. Then, I decided to massage her stomach. She had a big stomach and was a big woman, but I like big woman, they give better hugs than thin women. Then, I paused, and I asked Spirit if it would be okay, but heard silence. So, I took a gamble and squeezed her breasts with my hands and she made a soft moan and she took them out. It was dark outside in the Second City parking lot and no one but us was around. I felt them and they felt like warm dough when it comes out of an oven. Then, like a baby, I put each nipple in my mouth and sucked on them, which she also loved. When I tried to go below her waist, she said it was too soon for that which I respected.  We made out and felt each other. Then, when we both felt we were finished, she put them back and we said what boyfriends and girlfriends say to each other when they part ways.  

We kept taking improv classes together and the classes were expensive as was gas. See, I only had minimum wage jobs at this point in my life. Things like unloading trucks at grocery stores, waiting tables, cleaning duties, etc. Shit minimum wage jobs. Then, when I couldn't afford things, I'd charge them on my credit card. Things like groceries, eating out, gasoline, Netflix, presents for relatives, etc. Then, I'd be scared when the bill came and either pay the minimum payment, or deposit a check from the credit card company into the bank and pay with a check from the bank. But, the shit hit the fan and I had nowhere else to go but my parents' house, which none of us wanted. But, I spent the night over at my girlfriend's and she took me to a place where you can pay to use a computer and she paid for me to use one and I sent the e-mail saying I couldn't audition for the conservatory and I cried because my fellow cast members were like family to me. And, she hugged me against her breast and let me cry on them. 

We had our final performance which went well. I got a lot of laughs and afterwards she asked me how I felt and I told her I felt like a paradox. She understood. I was happy about the performance, but miserable I had to leave. Her and other class members took me to the final classes, but it was tough. Most people don't like change. I went to church and got a greeting confirming I'd be moving. I bought a lotto ticket with the little money I had left and it lost. This sucked. The next three years of my life would suck. She broke up with me and said it couldn't work out because of the distance between us, but she bought me groceries so I wouldn't starve before I went back to my parents. I'll always remember that. And I thought that was the end between us, but I'm happy to say that was only the first chapter. See, after I got kicked out of my parents' home and put into a long term care facility with morons with Alzheimer's and Dementia, I stole a fellow idiot's wifi password and was able to reconnect with her via Facebook. Then, we started calling each other on the phone weekly and Facetiming. We would get back together if God wanted us to. We would.  In a moment. We would.